…….I just had a dumpster delivered today. I love dumpsters. They make me feel powerful. All those things I don’t want I no longer have to drive to the dump or find someone with a truck or talk Shannon into taking are no longer a worry. I just toss them and there’s no one around to plead with me about memories.
…….I never had a dumpster until I moved into this house and was left with all the stuff my mother couldn’t stand to give away. I’m unsentimental when it comes to stuff. My sister was not and she lived in mortal fear I would throw away something she had missed when she took all the things that had meaning to her. I realized she had gone off the deep end when she called me one dumpster day to inquire if I had seen Dad’s Navy uniform lately. “Yes, I did,” I replied. “I’m wearing it today. Of course I haven’t seen it,” Sometimes Marsha didn’t care for me much. .
……Once I finish the garage and have gotten rid of my junk, I’ll do battle with the basement memories: the Christmas decorations I’ll never use; the boxes of old wine glasses and dishes seem to multiply each time I go into the basement; the pictures, oh the pictures my Mom kept of every child in every stage of development; the notes the twins used to leave her. “Hi Gramma, we were here. you were not. You lose! Will you hem these pants”.
…….I should have thrown my mother’s meat grinder away years ago. It’s pre-World War II and is testimony to the frugal generation that didn’t leave any leftover. Did I honestly think I would make ham salad like Mom? She could take any type of meat: chicken, turkey, roast, pork or ham, grind it up; and throw some mayonnaise and pickle relish in and she had a salad and lunch for a few more days.
……..I talked about history and mystery in my last column. Well, there’s both in my family room that was known in the seventies as the “rec room.” It had paneling, furniture that was right out of Mad Men, a full bar complete with bar stools, and even an extra fridge with a keg. Oh, and it wouldn’t have been a respectable rec room without stereo and the indoor-outdoor carpet on the floor.
…….It was 1970 something and we occasionally would have a picnic. My sister Marsha was big on organizing picnics especially at other people’s houses. She would call me, my Mom, and her friend Dorothy Swain and inform us we were having a picnic at Moms. We all were told what we were to bring (Marsha was very directive.) In total there were 10 kids all about the same age. Shannon was the youngest at around five. Her cousin Tamera the oldest.
…’….They loved Gramma’s house. It had a boat parked in the side yard. My Mom had remarried and her husband had a really nice boat Before they were married the kids were full of plans to boat on the river….so was my Mom’s new husband. Only, once they were married he discovered what Marsha and I had known all along; my Mom couldn’t swim and she was terrified of the water. So the boat got parked forever. . Not that the kids didn’t get to enjoy it. Gramma often fixed them lunch and they had a picnic on the boat …..in the yard.. She told them to use their imagination about the water.
……That’s the history. Here’s the mystery. We adults were all in the side yard enjoying our coffee as the picnic wound down and dusk approached. The kids went into the rec room to get pop out the fridge…or so they said.. Then in a moment no-one remembers, someone turned the valve to the keg on and it broke. As they all scrambled to put it back the beer just kept coming. There was no way to stop the beer from coming out and spilling onto the indoor-outdoor carpet. Honorable kids would have rushed to the adults and reported the crime, but this was a double offense. Obviously, one of those underage hooligans was getting themselves some beer and the carpet was beginning to foam….and well, they weren’t stupid.
………So, what did they do? Half of them headed for a place to hide and the nearest thing was the boat. It was covered and they all climbed into it. As the beer continued to pour onto the carpet they huddled in the dark to plot their next move.
…….They are all grown now and to this day their stories differ Shannon doesn’t know why because she was too little to have tried to get a glass of beer. She couldn’t even reach the handle. But, she was a cousin and the boys just took her and said “come on, we’re hiding in the boat.” It seemed like a fine adventure for ten minutes then it became hot and dark and it was obvious this boat wasn’t going anywhere.
…….Tamera, the oldest, has a different memory. The Webster kids had a pact of their own. Susan, the next to the oldest, was a tattletale and was always telling on them.. So, no matter what they did, they blamed Susan and they all stuck to the story.
…….When I asked Tamera who did it, she immediately said “It was Susan.”
……..Maybe? Maybe, not.
……So in trying to find out who did the deed, I called Doug who is known in our family for his photographic memory and instant recall.. He simply need read something once and it is imbedded in his brain. It has served him well in court so he of all people should not only remember the dastardly deed, but the day and time it happened and what the defense was. His response bowled me over. “I don’t remember that happening.” he said.
“Doug, you hid in the boat and the entire carpet was soaked in beer. Gramma’s rec room smelled like a distillery, or the VFW depending on how fond you were of beer. How could you forget?.”
…….He was irate now, “Mom, that never happened. ” I was stunned. “Doug, all your cousins remember it. We laugh about it all the time. About how Gramma and Johnny never yelled. They just shampooed that carpet, over and over. And, no one ever knew who did it cause no one would tell.”
……”It’s OK Doug, I think the statute of limitations has run out on turning Grammas rec room into a beer garden.”
…..”Mom, I not only don’t remember it, I didn’t even know Johnny had a keg in the rec room.”
…….”.Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?”
…..The mystery is solved. Doug did it.
